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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735776">there's the glow of your face</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvainplath/pseuds/sylvainplath'>sylvainplath</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Deep Throating, M/M, Sexy Tea Time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:00:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28735776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvainplath/pseuds/sylvainplath</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dedue gets killer head.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sylvain Jose Gautier/Dedue Molinaro</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>there's the glow of your face</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Dedue gets a blowjob idk what else to tell u. Commission for KayNight whose writing is very sexy. Meow.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dedue hooks his armor’s scarves and tassels over his head and drops them into his portable cloth bin. He’ll wash them later, if he is able to before the next serious battle. He is wary this night, more than he tends to be, though he always treats his surroundings with healthy suspicion. Though, perhaps, it is not healthy. In a world like this, for the man he is, he must always be ready. This wariness, however, has the hairs on his neck raised tall, his gooseflesh tingling in the stuffy air of his tent. It’s moderate in size, thanks to his status within Faerghus’s army, with a softer sleep spread than Dedue thinks should be permitted, but his - friends, that’s what they are - insisted. So it’s a cozy thing, though it is built to be disassembled at a moment’s notice. He’s looking forward to laying in it, with dried lavender and gardenia satchels awkwardly sewn into his pillow (His Highness’s attempt at learning crafts). But he knows he won’t be able to - something is not right. Perhaps it is simply that this battle was won too easily, his friends came away too unscathed. Felix evaded several nearly-mortal blows when he was surrounded by the Imperial Army’s underground allies. Ashe was caught in the midst of a Meteor spell, and miraculously the ballista he hid beneath shielded him completely. The people Dedue loves are never so lucky.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes is surely busy now, so Dedue decides to seek her out later into the night. In the meantime, he will prepare tea for himself and those closest to him- both because he hopes drinking it will calm him, and because the routine of it is calming in its familiarity. If he were to see her now, Mercedes would probably offer him wine. She thinks he should indulge a little more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he always tells her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>when things have settled down</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He sets a pot of water over the fire, lit by Sylvain at some point and hung by a tool Annette and Dimitri made together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain, who has just poured his own mulled wine by the fire, eyes Dedue with mischief. “So antsy you’d rather brew tea than get undressed?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Dedue were a lesser man, or Felix, he would blush. He knows what Sylvain meant to say. “Pardon me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain’s good natured smile becomes smaller, but more sincere. “Did you want tea so badly you decided to leave with half your armor still on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue hadn’t noticed, really, when he left his tent to fetch the pot, which is a testament to his anxiety. He must look silly. “I find myself restless tonight,” he says. “I prefer tea the traditional way, and wished to be able to have some as soon as I finished preparing my sleeping quarters.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain looks at him oddly. Dedue can’t place what he sees in his eyes. “Do you want - would you like some assistance? Those underarm buckles look like a real pain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is definitely strange. To Dedue’s knowledge, Sylvain does not habitually ask people if they need help removing their armor. In fact, if he thinks about it objectively, this sounds like something Sylvain would say if he was - oh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I can manage that alone. I generally do,” Dedue says wryly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Setting his cup down on the grass, Sylvain stands, stretches his arms and cracks his back. His shirt, which has been tied at the bottom and settles in a knot above his belly button, rides up even further. Dedue’s eyes are caught on the curly, red hair that travels down his navel and beyond the belt of his trousers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain pushes his hair out of his eyes and says, “Are you sure?” His eyes are fixed on Dedue’s waist. “It must be a pain bending over to take those off,” he points at the metal shielding Dedue’s knees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you looking at my legs</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Dedue wonders. But he knows. “Get to the point.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain huffs cutely. Pouts, really. “Okay, fine. You look stressed and I think I know something that might help you unwind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a terrible pick up line, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain scans their vicinity. Finding no one paying attention to them, he says, “ugh, okay. Your thighs look really hot and it’s making me really want to suck you off. How’s that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue freezes, because while he expected honesty, he did not expect that</span>
  <em>
    <span> much </span>
  </em>
  <span>honesty. He stands in front of his simmering tea water, blushing lightly because he has never heard someone say that about his thighs, and internally spirals. He must stay this way for some time, because the next thing he knows, Sylvain is much closer than he was before, his eyebrows twisting worriedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to, of course. I’d never try to make you. But you, well, you asked me to be honest and I… really like your thighs? I have for like 6 years now,” he blithers nervously. Sylvain is rarely nervous, but then, he is also rarely sincere.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.” Dedue says. He’s not sure how to respond, actually. Sylvain is very handsome but Dedue is not in the business of indulging in sexual acts with people he has known since he was fourteen in between battles during the greatest war the continent has seen in centuries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain shifts his weight now, awkwardly. “If you don’t want to, I can make this easier on both of us and just… skedaddle, actually.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ske-ske what? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, wait!” Dedue mumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain pauses mid swirling away. “What was that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I - I said wait. I’d prefer it if you… didn’t leave. Just yet,” Dedue says, and knows his ears must be burning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“O-oh,” Sylvain’s mouth opens comically wide. “Um. Can we forget about this whole conversation? Except for the consent, let’s - remember that, and uh, mentally reconvene in five minutes where we are both topless in your tent?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shamefully, Dedue’s dick twitches. He’s interested now. Worse, he’s… excited. “Yes. Let’s. Do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that is what they do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Half an hour later, Dedue is propped up against one of his lavender pillows on his mat, a candle lit on his makeshift table beside him, and an empty cup that fifteen minutes ago contained chamomile tea, on a saucer at the table. He’s armorless and even better, topless, and Sylvain is nestled between his thighs, which are still wearing his dark green leggings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain is pressing his chin into the muscle of Dedue’s upper thigh, breathing hotly between his legs. It’s warm and just a little bit damp and Dedue is going to be fully hard quite soon. His nails crawl up the hem of Dedue’s leggings and slide over the waistband, fingers rubbing softly into the marks the fabric have indented along Dedue’s hips. “This okay?” he asks, beginning to tug the waistband lower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dedue sighs. He’s trying not to think very hard, because if he does, he’ll become very nervous. That would defeat the purpose of this exercise entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain smiles up at his heavy eyes, he kisses Dedue’s hip bone. Rakes his nails along Dedue’s thighs, new swollen marks where the seams of his pants were before. Sylvain lets them pool at Dedue’s knees, distracted from his task by the candlelight on Dedue’s skin. His thighs are covered in scars, long and deep, some so deep they can barely feel anything that ever touches them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I touch them?” Sylvain whispers. His eyes look very amber in the dim light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I - suppose so,” Dedue grounds out. He’s never let anyone touch them before, but despite their lack of closeness, he does trust Sylvain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t seem certain. Believe me, there’s other stuff I’m happy to touch,” Sylvain flutters his eyelashes and dips his head downward to kiss Dedue’s linen-covered cock. He’s still in his underwear. Sylvain kisses along the whole length of his dick, letting his teeth catch gently the further down his mouth moves. Dedue is shivering, and by the time Sylvain’s kissed down to the tip of him, he’s hard.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon Dedue’s underclothes are flung somewhere in the tent, his palms raised gently above Sylvain’s hair, hesitant to touch him. Sylvain is pressing slow kisses to the longest scar along Dedue’s thigh, and though he can barely feel it, the burning in Sylvain’s eyes makes him shake anyway. He’s feeling hazy in a comfortable way; a little distant. It’s like he’s floating pleasantly and he can’t think quite so hard about what was upsetting him before. It’s nice, but then Sylvain bites him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jolts, his breath hitches. Sylvain chuckles beneath him, nipping up his thighs, above his knee to his waist. Slowly inward, close to his groin, until his teeth tease the longer hairs near his dick. Dedue whimpers once and feels a little embarrassed for it. But then, he supposes, he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>that. It’s dull and it tickles, and he can feel it.  He never really thinks about that. Before his mind reconnects with his physical reality to stop him, he hears someone groan and realizes it’s him. He can feel Sylvain’s close-lipped smile over his waist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I-is this all you wanted to do?” Dedue grits out, flustered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain winks at him from his knees, where his lips graze the head of Dedue’s cock. Dedue whines, just a little. He isn’t used to this. He’s mollified knowing that it wasn’t loud, at least. “Nah, I just think you deserve some foreplay.”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But if you’re getting impatient -” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Sylvain’s lips, which are very soft, probably specifically for his bedroom habits, enclose halfway up Dedue’s cock. “Why,” Dedue mutters, “do you have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>show off</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain laughs around him and it vibrates, it moves through his groin so pleasantly. A few more times, Sylvain mouths him up and down, up and down. Then he pulls off completely and gives little licks all over Dedue’s head, and his fingers linger beneath his balls. Dedue gasps, Sylvain squeezes. Gently. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Touch my head,” he groans in Dedue’s direction. “Pull my hair or something. Don’t worry, I like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hesitantly, Dedue fists his hands in Sylvain’s hair. “That’s right,” Sylvain calls up to him, sounding rather like he’s got a mouth full of food, but he doesn’t. He’s got a mouthful of…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Push my head if you want, make sure I’m where you want me to be,” Sylvain intones, his tongue slurping in a way that probably isn’t very finessed, but he doesn’t seem very concerned about it now. Though, it must be hard to be delicate about your cock sucking when you’re also speaking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Dedue listens. He tilts Sylvain’s head a little further back for a better angle, unintentionally forcing himself a little deeper into Sylvain’s mouth. Sylvain is slowly taking him in further and further. He must do this a lot; he’s having no trouble. Dedue holds back his whimpers, only allowing a grunt every so often. He has no reason for it, really, he’s just… new to this, and unsettled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One moan he can’t restrain pleases Sylvain especially, because he pops off, spitty and everything, to say “Oh Seiros,” and fist himself roughly through his trousers. Dedue knows this because he’s watching him with a stare akin to a bird of prey’s. Sweat drips down his forehead and a tear glitters on his cheek, and the place on his pants where his hand came away looks damp. Dedue isn’t expecting that and he feels his balls tighten. He brings Sylvain’s free hand up to cup them, and Sylvain startles him by pressing the crescents of his nails into them. Soon, he adjusts Dedue, pulling him by his hips, so he can get a good angle to swallow Dedue’s balls. He takes one in his mouth and sucks, slurps, amps up the filthy noises bursting out of his throat and Dedue’s whole body shudders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain focuses on that while he uses his other hand to squeeze Dedue’s slippery, soaked cock. The slick sound is almost embarrassing, but Dedue is too close to coming to care. Sylvain is furiously working Dedue’s cock with his hand and his balls with his mouth and Dedue can’t, he can’t, so he says: “Sylvain, I’m going to come now,” to which Sylvain whimpers and pulls his hand and his mouth away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue is fucking furious and has to restrain his impulse to shove Sylvain back where he was. Sylvain whispers, voice cracked and broken, “don’t be mad, I just wanna -” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he doesn’t finish his thought, because he takes Dedue all the way down his throat again and squeezes, and moans, and pants quite pathetically until Dedue can’t take the sound or the feeling and he loses it. He spends down Sylvain’s throat. Sylvain chokes around him but he looks so</span>
  <em>
    <span> happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He swallows and stops moving, body wiring tightly, before he pulls off and cries out.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How was that?” Sylvain huffs after several minutes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, um. Do you need a hand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sylvain looks up at him from under his sweaty hair. “Ah,” smiling awkwardly, “no, I’m good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. “Well -” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight! Hit me up if you ever wanna do this again,” Sylvain blurts out, his cheeks rosy and his hands in fists conspicuously covering his cum stained pants. He bursts through the tent flap and Dedue doesn’t see him again for nearly a day.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>im @sylvainplath on most media so feel free to nya in my ear :3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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